


leaving everything behind (but you)

by MusicalLuna



Series: Divine Normalcy [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anniversary, Artist Steve Rogers, Bottom Tony Stark, Curtain Fic, Dirty Comics, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Food, Frottage, Laughter, Laughter During Sex, Lazy Mornings, Love, M/M, Mechanic Tony Stark, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Oral Sex, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Outdoor Sex, POV Steve Rogers, Roleplay, Romance, Sappy, Sexual Roleplay, Vacation, not anything compliant technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-11 23:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12946464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: For their anniversary, Tony tells Steve to name his fantasy.Steve never fails to surprise (or delight) him.





	leaving everything behind (but you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightwalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwalker/gifts).



> Thank you to nightwalker for betaing this and inspiring it in the first place. [See the original post on Tumblr.](http://musicalluna.tumblr.com/post/132712764775/so-for-their-anniversary-tonys-like-name-your)

Tony has Steve on a platform in the middle of his workshop getting measured for a new suit when he says, “So our anniversary's coming up.”

Steve's breath catches. That's right, it is. Five years—five _years_ they've been married. God, he hadn't realized it was coming up so soon.

Tony looks up at him through his lashes from where he's leaning against a control panel, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Of course, you knew that.”

“Of course,” Steve says, feeling himself turning red. He winces, blinded briefly by JARVIS' scanner light.

Tony grins. “You are easy like Sunday morning, Rogers. It's my turn, relax about it. Name your fantasy and we'll make it happen.”

This tradition started because Steve forgot their first anniversary. To make it up to Tony, he'd sworn he could have whatever he wanted for their next one, and that's been the pattern ever since. Steve has several reminders, human and non-human now, to ensure he never has to see Tony look the way he did on that first anniversary ever again.

“So what'll it be, Sugar Snap? Couples trip to Paris? Tie you to the bed for a weekend?”

Steve blushes and ducks his head. There is something he's had in mind for awhile now, but he hasn't wanted to ask Tony for it, so he's always come up with something else. “Why don't we do what you want to do?” he suggests.

Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “That's not what we agreed on.”

The blush burns hotter. “What if that's my fantasy?”

Tony snorts, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “If that were _true_ , I'd allow it, but it's not, so spill. What is this scandalous fantasy of yours?”

Steve swallows and starts to cross his arms.

“Hey!” Tony calls. “Maintain the position.”

Steve closes his eyes instead. “...Promise you won't laugh.”

“You and I both know I can't make that promise, but I swear I'll do my best. And even if I laugh, that doesn't mean I'm not game.”

Steve grimaces. Then adds in a rush, “And don't take it personally. I love you and I love our life together.”

There's an uncertain silence, and then Tony says, “Honey, is this you trying to say you want to open our relationship or experiment with cuckolding or something?”

Steve's eyes snap back open. “What?! _No!_ ”

Tony takes an unsteady breath and smiles crookedly at him. “Oh. Okay, good. Because if that'll make you happy—”

“ _No_ ,” Steve says firmly and gets down off the platform, heedless of the irritable beep the machine makes as he interrupts the scan, moving to take Tony's hands. “No. I don't want to open our relationship or experiment with cuckolding. That's an okay fantasy, but I don't think I could share you with someone else, even for a night.”

Tony smiles shyly, glancing up at him sidelong as he runs his hands over Steve's chest a touch possessively. “Okay. Then what's got you so twisted up?”

Steve looks down at the floor, squeezing Tony's hands. “I want to...to get away from all this. From being superheros and being famous. I want to go somewhere where nobody knows who Steve Rogers and Tony Stark are and get a house with a lawn and a white picket fence and just pretend for a weekend that aliens don't exist. I want to be Steve-the-comic-artist, and I want you to be Tony-the-mechanic, and—” He sucks in a nervous breath. “I want to be _normal_.”

He feels awful because it seems ungrateful to tell Tony he wants to get away from everything that makes their lives _theirs_ , and it's not that he doesn't love being an Avenger, that he doesn't love living with Tony in this futuristic Tower above the city, but— Sometimes he wishes for something simpler.

To his surprise, Tony smiles easily, hands curling around the back of Steve's neck and then kisses Steve, gentle and sweet. “As you wish, Cap.”

“Really?” Steve says, dragging heavy eyes open.

Tony huffs a breath of laughter and nods. “It'll take some finagling, but yeah. Absolutely. Not a problem. A low-key getaway sounds great.”

Steve stares at him incredulously for a moment before drawing him back in to kiss, over and over again, gratitude and love surging through him in waves. He can't believe how lucky he is.

~ * ~

Tony takes care of all the details.

There are a lot of things he can handle by throwing money at the problem, but there are a few things about Steve's request that Steve's not sure how he's going to manage. Then again, Tony is _Tony_.

“All right, kids,” Tony says when they're standing waiting for the elevator to take them and their suitcases down to the car, “be good. Don't burn the place to the ground while Mom and Dad are gone. If you do, it's coming out of your allowance.”

“We'll be fine,” Bruce says.

“Last time we only burnt things a little,” Natasha says, mouth twitching.

Tony sighs. “That's exactly what I'm worried about.”

“Bye everyone,” Steve calls, shepherding Tony into the elevator.

As they're descending, Tony pats his pockets and then sighs again. “Right. Left the phone. That's gonna take some getting used to.”

“Thank you,” Steve says seriously, because he knows how difficult it was for Tony to agree to leave his phone and his tablets and his other tech behind. He kisses the corner of Tony's mouth softly and Tony smiles.

“I'm sure you'll keep me occupied,” he leers and Steve laughs.

“God willing.”

They put their bags in Tony's '61 T-Bird and then they're off, headed for Virginia. Steve isn't exactly sure where, but it doesn't really matter.

They drive with the top down because it's 75 and sunny; the drive takes them through miles and miles of beautiful country smattered with tall, leafy green trees and rolling hills covered in long, swaying grasses. Steve's a city boy through and through, but the air is clean and fresh and he breathes in deep and feels the tension seep out of him with every mile-marker they pass.

He keeps catching Tony taking glances at him, with a smile practically cemented on his face. He threads their fingers together over the gearshift and these last five years have been some of the happiest of Steve's life, but he thinks he could stay here like this with Tony, the wind in their hair and not a care in the world forever.

They make it to Abingdon just as the sun's beginning to set. It's a quaint little town that feels like a step back in time compared to Manhattan and Steve can't believe how perfect it is. “Tony,” he breathes and Tony looks over at him, grins.

“What you were imagining?”

Steve nods wordlessly, overcome.

Incredibly, the house is even better. It's a classic two-story with bay windows on both levels, the exterior painted a serene blue-gray, the trim white. There's a porch with a swing for two and flower beds lining the front walk and an attached one-car garage that they roll up to. The porch light is on and it feels like being welcomed home.

Tony turns the car off, the engine clicking as it cools, his eyes on Steve's face. “How did I do?”

Steve is still staring. He feels like he's in a dream. “It's perfect. Tony, I—” He tears his gaze away from the house to look at Tony, who's smile brightens as Steve draws him into a kiss. “Thank you, Tony, this is— _thank you_.”

When he finally lets him go, Tony is flushed and pleased-looking. He runs his thumb gently across Steve's cheek. “I'm glad you're happy, honey.”

“Can we go in?” Steve asks and Tony tilts his head back and laughs.

“I sure hope so, otherwise we got a rotten deal.”

As they're climbing out of the car, Steve spots a neighbor across the wide street getting their mail. They raise a hand in greeting and Steve returns the gesture with a surge of pure joy.

He catches Tony's hand with his as Tony comes around the car and Tony laughs as he's pulled toward the front door. At the foot of the stairs up onto the porch, Steve ducks down and scoops Tony up, grinning at the delighted yelp of laughter it garners.

“Oh my god, how am I supposed to open the door like this, you lunatic.”

Steve refuses to let him down though, so they're both giggling like kids when Tony finally manages to get the key in the lock. He gently kicks the door open and steps inside. It's just as beautiful in here, but Steve only takes the most cursory look around before knocking the door shut with his hip and heading up the stairs.

“Our stuff is still in the car, Steve,” Tony says, sounding equal parts amused and bemused.

“It can wait,” Steve says, voice low and rough, and Tony looks up at him, his eyes darkening as he realizes what Steve intends.

“Oh. I see.”

Their room is spacious, the décor dominated by an enormous four poster bed. The bay windows are cracked open, letting in a cool breeze that makes the curtains flutter.

Steve heads straight to the bed, laying Tony down and then crawling on too to lean over him and press a deep, wet kiss to his mouth.

Tony makes a soft noise of desire and encouragement and kisses back, his hands moving restlessly over Steve's body.

“I love you,” Steve breathes. “You did this. You did this for _me_ _.”_

Tony chuckles throatily, raking his fingers through Steve's hair. “Steve, this doesn't even _begin_ to touch what I would do for you.”

Steve groans and shudders and presses kisses into Tony's mouth, praying it's enough to tell Tony just how grateful he is because there aren't words.

“Love you,” Tony pants, pushing his jeans down around his thighs and Steve makes himself stop kissing Tony long enough to do the same. Then he takes Tony and himself in one hand, watching avidly as Tony throws his head back, exposing the long, beautiful column of his throat. “Oh, god, not gonna last,” Tony moans and Steve twists his grip, pressing his open mouth into Tony's skin.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, and Tony whimpers, looking up at him through slitted eyes.

They both fall apart at the same time, Steve shaking and gasping and Tony with a long, low moan, his fingers clamped so tight around Steve's biceps there will be bruises later. Steve rests his forehead in the sweaty juncture of Tony's neck and shoulder and Tony giggles breathlessly, patting his back.

“Didn't take long to christen the place.”

Steve huffs out a laugh and kisses him, slow and sweet. “You clean up and I'll get the suitcases?”

Tony smiles at him, his dark eyes shining. “Square deal.”

~ * ~

The next morning the sun streaming in through the windows wakes Steve and he nuzzles the nape of Tony's neck until he wakes too. They make love at a languid pace with the whole day ahead of them and the sunlight warm on their skin. After, they doze awhile longer.

When they finally make their way out of bed, they get dressed and take the car into town to pick up a few groceries. “I could have had them ordered in, but I figured you'd get a kick out of this,” Tony says as they're picking out a basket.

“You were right,” Steve says with a kiss. He notices a couple of passersby sneaking glances, but their attention is gone as quickly as it comes. They get pastries from the bakery and eat them as they meander around the store picking out things here and there: steaks, some asparagus, a box of Reese's Puffs, a variety of sliced cheeses and fruits, crackers, an entire watermelon, a tira misu. The basket is overflowing by the time they're finished and not a single person has stopped them to talk, or even so much as looked at them twice.

Steve doesn’t know if it’s sheer dumb luck, or if Tony has a hand in it, but it’s perfect.

When they get back, they unpack the groceries together and wind up making out at the kitchen counter for so long that the ice cream they bought melts. Tony can't stop laughing as Steve mournfully puts the carton in the trash.

“What are you going to do now?” Steve asks and Tony jerks a thumb toward the garage.

“Thinking about tinkering with the T-Bird, if that's okay with you.”

“More than okay,” Steve says.

Tony pulls the car out into the driveway and gets underneath her and in the meantime, Steve finds a lawn chair hanging on the garage wall. He takes it out and sets it up in the front lawn and makes himself comfortable with a book.

He loses his place when Tony loses his shirt and Steve ends up turning the chair around so he can watch Tony as he works. He's shining with sweat and smeared with oil and grease like something out of one of those dirty calendars. Except he's Steve's.

“I left a few things to keep me occupied while we were here, 'n put the parts in the trunk,” Tony's saying. “Nothing that _needed_ to be done, just a few upkeep jobs.”

“You look hot,” Steve observes. “Why don't you come in for awhile?”

Tony rolls out from under the car and smiles lecherously at him. “I'm always hot. But yeah. I could use a drink.”

So they troop inside and stand in the kitchen drinking lemonade and Steve can't stop staring because there is no luckier man on earth than him.

“What?” Tony says, when he catches him. There's a knowing smile playing at the corner of his lips though, so Steve doesn't deign to answer.

“I can't believe some people read _Lord of the Rings_ and don't see how obvious Gimli and Legolas are.”

“Thank you!” Tony exclaims. “Thank god, I was afraid to ask because I'd have to divorce you if you weren't on board.”

“I'd have to be blind and stupid.”

Tony snorts. “So you've gotten to Helm's Deep?”

They spend the next hour picking through the fridge and talking about Lord of the Rings. When they've had their fill, Tony gives Steve a pointed look and says, “I think I'll take a shower.”

Steve happily takes the hint and they spend a leisurely hour in the bathroom cleaning each other up and getting distracted with kisses and...other things.

When they finally emerge, Tony digs a book out of his own suitcase and they go back downstairs and make themselves at home on the porch swing. Tony manages to bend himself into a small enough shape to get his legs draped over one arm, his head in Steve's lap. “What are you reading?” Steve asks, running his fingers through Tony's hair and smiling at the soft sigh it garners.

“Captive Prince.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Sex slaves.”

“I don't think I'd like that,” Steve says and Tony smiles.

“Nah, you'd probably hate it.”

Steve bends forward far enough to kiss Tony's nose. “Glad you're enjoying it though.”

It's so quiet out here, even with the sound of the breeze rustling in the grass and frogs and crickets chirping. Every so often Steve hears a car drive past on the main road a mile or so away, but otherwise it's like the rest of the world doesn't even exist.

Later, as the sun's going down, painting the sky pink and purple and orange, Tony sets his book aside and shifts so he's curled up in Steve's lap where they can exchange kisses and talk in low whispers. When the sun has gone and it's starting to get chilly, fireflies flickering in and out around the yard, they gather up their books and go inside to make dinner.

Despite his nerves, while they eat Steve asks, “So how was your week?”

Tony, genius that he is, takes one look at him and catches on in a hurry. “Not bad. Glad it's over and I get to come home to you.”

He nudges Steve's foot with his own and Steve grins goofily down at his plate.

“Thursday a customer threw a fit because I told him he needed a new transmission. How was yours?”

“Good,” Steve says and tries his best not to feel awkward about playing pretend. Tony hasn't laughed at him yet. “Didn't get as many pages done as I would have liked, but I'm getting there.”

Tony's toes skim up the side of his leg and Steve shivers. “I think it's time you put some work into me.”

“All right,” Steve rasps and then they're pushing aside their plates and Steve is maneuvering his way onto Tony's lap, careful not to rest all his weight on Tony and accidentally crush him. They kiss and kiss and kiss until Steve is hard in his jeans and uncomfortable and Tony's hips are rolling restlessly under his ass.

“Bed,” Tony demands, and they stagger their way up the stairs laughing and pressing their smiles together. They get stuck three-quarters of the way up the stairs when Tony falls on his ass and Steve follows him down. They lose their shirts and Steve gasps with relief when Tony gets his fly undone and then he's laughing, dragging Tony the rest of the way up to the bedroom because they're both going to regret it if they have sex on the stairs.

“You finish those dirty comics of us?” Tony asks breathlessly as Steve kisses his way down the front of Tony's body. Steve has to stop and press his forehead to the arc reactor, groaning. He can hear Tony grinning when he says, “Like that idea, huh?”

“God, Tony.”

Tony runs his fingers through Steve's hair, murmurs, “Cute comic book artist comes into my shop to get his car serviced and bends me over the hood instead.”

“Jesus,” Steve gasps, heat burning through him.

Tony laughs, the sound breaking off on a moan as Steve swallows him whole.

Neither of them should be on such a hair trigger at their ages after such a...busy weekend, but that doesn't seem to matter. They collapse together after, Steve's face pressed into Tony's shoulder and Tony's fingers stroking Steve's hip.

“Seriously,” Tony says when he's caught his breath. “When am I gonna get one of those comics?”

“I'll start working on it tomorrow,” Steve replies and smiles into the covers at Tony's peal of laughter.

~ * ~

When Steve wakes up the next morning, there's coffee and a croissant stuffed with fruit waiting for him on the bedside table. He takes his time getting upright and eating it. The sound of Tony tinkering with the car again drifts in through the window and Steve lies there, content. No aliens, no wars, no superheroes, just him and his incredible husband together.

He imagines if this really were their life, what it would be like. Weeknights in watching TV or out at the movies, weekend dinner parties with all their friends, trips to the city. It would be nice he thinks. But then he wouldn't get to watch Tony work in his shop, bathed in light as he creates a better future one day at a time. He wouldn't get to hook an arm around the armor and go flying, feeling the rush of the wind around them. He'd miss the noise and rush and _life_ of New York.

So this, a weekend get away, it's enough for him.

Instead of going out to say good morning, Steve settles in at the drawing table in the front room situated next to the big bay windows and starts on that comic, like he promised. He gets into a groove and time slips away from him.

He comes back up for air when the smell of melting cheese hits his nose and his stomach growls. Sun is streaming in through the window and Steve realizes, surprised, that it's nearly mid-afternoon. He's _starving._

The comic has come a long way. He has two pages blocked out and six panels sketched in and he blushes looking down at the carefully rendered drawing of Tony's penis in the third one. He covers them up and goes to see what Tony's cooking.

Tony looks up when he comes through the doorway and his eyes crinkle with a smile. “He surfaces!”

“I got wrapped up,” Steve says, crossing the kitchen to slide his hands around Tony's waist and press a kiss to his cheek.

“I noticed. You were very intent on my dick, and who can blame you.” Tony grins gleefully and Steve groans, hiding his face in Tony's neck.

“What are you making?”

“Grilled cheese and soup. Sound okay?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Steve makes up for their morning apart by shadowing Tony as he putters around putting together their meal, his hands roving over Tony's body, lips pressing against any bit of Tony that comes with in reach. Tony is laughing by the time he puts the plates and the bowls on the table because Steve refuses to let go and he nearly drops everything. “Get off me, you menace.”

“Missed you,” Steve murmurs, kissing his jaw. Tony huffs and shakes his head, reaching up to card his fingers through Steve's hair.

“You barely even knew where you were. Come on, sit down and have lunch before the cheese gets gross.”

Steve lets him go after one more lingering kiss and they sit down to enjoy their food.

They spend the rest of the afternoon in the front room, Tony helpfully modeling for Steve while he draws and savors the anticipation of finally doing something about the fire in Tony's eyes.

Around four they go out back and grill up the steaks and asparagus. They spread out a picnic blanket in the middle of the yard and spend the next few hours talking and swapping bites of food. They're lying comfortably side by side looking up at the sky when the sun sets and the stars start to peek out, glittering brightly overhead. Fireflies bob in and out of sight around them and it's so beautiful Steve hardly knows what to do with himself. He knows he'll remember these feelings, but the sights and sounds will be harder to hold onto, so he tries to focus on every detail: the way Tony's hand feels, fingers laced with his; the way Tony smiles when one of the fireflies lands on his nose; the sweet smell of grass.

Eventually Tony turns to kiss him and Steve clings, soaks in the warmth of his body in the cool evening air. “Are you happy?” Tony asks, moving to straddle Steve's hips, his eyes dark and intent.

“God, yes, Tony,” Steve breathes. “I couldn't—I couldn't be happier.”

Tony smiles and bends down to kiss him. “Good. Everything you hoped it would be?”

“Perfect,” he says, trying and failing to catch his breath. He runs his hands down Tony's back, the brings them around the front to start undoing Tony's buttons. “You're perfect, Tony, I'm so lucky.”

“Wasn't exactly a hardship,” Tony says, eyes fluttering shut as Steve pauses with the buttons to brush his thumbs over Tony's nipples. Tony's hips undulate and Steve hisses, pinching a little harder than he meant to. Tony lets out a high, pretty cry.

Steve's skin feels like fire, shimmering and consuming. He watches, enraptured as Tony gets up to free himself of his pants, framed by the glittering velvet night sky. “Should we—should we do this out here?” Steve gasps as Tony straddles him again, that much warmer without the layer of his clothing between them.

“You wanna stop? Go back inside?” Tony pants and grinds against him. Steve moans, reaching up to clutch at Tony's thighs.

“No,” he chokes.

Tony huffs out a breathless laugh. “Didn't think so.”

He pushes up on his knees far enough to get his hands on Steve's fly and that's a very good idea; Steve brings his hands down to help, pushing at his jeans until they're gone.

Tony must have had plans for this, because he drops a packet of lubricant into Steve's hands and grins. “If someone's peeping in our backyard, let them see.”

Steve's stomach swoops and he tears open the packet with his teeth.

Tony giggles, hands massaging over the muscles of Steve's chest and shoulders. “That never gets old.”

Then Steve touches him with slick fingers and his mouth falls open, his head dropping between his shoulders.

“Yesss,” he hisses between his teeth, “like that, god, _Steve_.”

Steve strains to lift his head, catching his mouth with a sloppy kiss. “Beautiful,” he gasps. “ _Tony.”_

Tony's body is perfect, warm and slick when Steve nudges in and Tony shudders around him, breathing out a slow, slurred, “S-shhit.”

Steve works him until he's gasping desperately, rocking back on Steve's fingers.

“Come on, come on,” he groans.

Steve's not sure _he's_ going to be able to take it much longer, so he acquiesces, twisting his slicked up hand around his cock and then guiding himself in. It's sheer bliss, Tony pressed against the length of his chest so they can kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy, their nipples scraping together and making Steve jolt every time. Tony rocks and Steve bucks, and then they're moving together finding a familiar, perfect rhythm and Steve can hardly breathe.

It feels like an eternity and no time at all before their lovemaking goes from determined to frantic and Steve watches closely, blinking sweat out of his eyes as Tony tenses and moans, shuddering through his orgasm. He's stunning like this, and it drags Steve right along with him, the world going incandescent for a few incredible heartbeats.

“We could stay here, you know,” Tony murmurs when they’re laying pressed together after, sweat still cooling on their skin. “Be Mr. and Mr. Rogers. Leave superheroing behind.”

Steve is so touched by the offer he can’t even speak because his throat tightens painfully, but he buries his face in Tony’s throat and shakes his head.

As much as he loves it here, with Tony, like this, they’d both miss their lives.

“No,” he finally rasps and Tony cards his fingers through his hair, “but every few years, I think I’d like to do this again, if we can.”

Tony smiles at him, his eyes dark and soft and containing multitudes. “Anything you want. Anything.”

Steve loves him more than he thought possible.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [How to Win a Sportscar (the Dinastia remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13640376) by [ChibiSquirt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiSquirt/pseuds/ChibiSquirt)




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